


The Promise I'll Keep

by LePetitePrince



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Real World, Awkward Conversations, Crying, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 22:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LePetitePrince/pseuds/LePetitePrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer frowned and cocked his hip. "How did you get into my apartment?" </p><p>Brendon shrugged sheepishly and held up a red tagged key. "Shane gave me the emergency one."</p><p>"It's not really an emergency, though, is it?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Promise I'll Keep

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously wrote this at 2:15am. Something might come of this, probably not. It depends what you all think.

Spencer slotted his key into its hole and twisted his wrist. He just needed a bath, a beer, and sleep. His situation imploded like a neutron star weeks ago, and his eyes were still tinged with red, with a vague hint of a blocked nose and a wrecked throat. He promised himself, a few night after he caught them, that he'd try to forgive and forget.

He ended up doing neither. Whatever, Spencer sucked at keeping promises, anyway.

Spencer stepped through the door and threw his messenger bag down, he popped open his collar button and shuffled his tie down, giving him room to breathe. Their-- _His_ apartment was freezing, glimmers of street lamps lurking up the sides of the walls that spotlighted the splashed stains of red wine that Spencer really, _really_ didn't want to scrub up.

With a struggle, he tugged off his leather shoes and threw them haphazzardly on the shoerack. He padded through the apartment, heading for the kitchen, repeating, "bath, beer, bed," in his mind. Before he could reach any of those things, a gentle glowing light appeared in the corner of his eye. Spencer stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hey."

His stomach dropped as he turned towards the dining table. Spencer gulped. "Hey."

Brendon looked amazing. The flickering candles surrounding him just highlighted his features; defined lips, peaked hair, glasses, his noticably thinner frame. Shit, Brendon was looking _thin._ Spencer abandoned those thoughts and began to form an escape route - if Brendon was going to try and talk about what had happened, he would be out of there in seconds. God, he really didn't need this.

He noticed something. Spencer frowned and cocked his hip. "How did you get into my apartment?" 

Brendon shrugged sheepishly and held up a red tagged key. "Shane gave me the emergency one."

He sighed. "It's not really an emergency, though, is it?" 

"Spencer."

"What?" He replied sharply, with more venomn in his voice than he intended. Whatever, Brendon deserved it.

Spencer reached for the lightswitches and flicked them on, flooding the room and making it brighter. He began blowing out the candles and continued. "What, Brendon? A few candles and an apology won't make everything okay. It won't change what you did."

"But I'm not here to apologise."

He stopped. "Oh." Spencer shuffled. "Then why are you here? I don't need this."

"I wanted to tell you something. It's--"

Spencer snoted a laugh. "Wonderful, you two are getting married, please invite me. You'll look like fucking Barbie and Ken. Shit, I'll be a bridesmaid!--"

Just as he reached for a candle, Brendon's hand wrap around his wrist. Spencer jerked to look at him, only to see two brown eyes staring back. "Stop. Stop with the smart-ass comments. Just stop."

He could hear him choke up as Brendon dropped to his knees. "That's not me. I'm-- I wasn't having a gay freakout, or whatever the fuck. I don't know what happened. It--" God, Brendon was so close to breaking down, Spencer could feel it. "I need you."

Spencer bit his bottom lip and looked away. He couldn't do this. "Brendon, I can't--"

"I told them," he choked out, barely a whisper amongst the deathly silence that followed.

All of Spencer's rational thinking vanished in an instant when the first of Brendon's tears fell onto the hard wooden flooring. He fell to the same position as Brendon, and everything became white noise; Brendon's sobs, his own thoughts and the melting tension. Spencer clung to Brendon and ran the palm of his hand over his back, soothing him. The first tears became sobs. The sobs became rushed _I'm sorry_ 's and the _I'm sorry_ 's became _forgive me._

After what felt like hours of rocking gently and negotiating Brendon into Spencer's bed to rest, he drew circles onto his skin with his finger. He was trying to remember every method his mother had used on him to calm him. Brendon's head was resting on Spencer's chest, and eventually, the younger man felt his breathing soften. Spencer looked down at him and sighed. "You're a mess," he whispered.

Spencer looked through the bedroom window; the sun was barely rising, the reddy-orange colors casting menacing shadows over the bedroom walls, leering and creeping over the two men. "Us against the world," he said to himself, observing the tower blocks that stood in the distance.

Brendon snuffled in his sleep, shifting himself closer to his warm body. "We'll be okay." Spencer said, looking down at him.

He felt him sigh. "You swear?"

"Promise."

It would be the one promise he'd keep.


End file.
